A/N 1: This is based on a post I made on tumblr yesterday - "I have this crazy hayffie idea in my head where Haymitch could suddenly hear Effie's thoughts (only Effie) & sometimes he just smiles to himself, trying to control his laughter because Effie might have been thinking something like "this suit looks good on him, I might do him. Stop it, Effie! This is Haymitch you're thinking about."
I never meant to write it but since people asked for it so, here you go!
A/N 2: This was originally posted under The Ballad of a Drunk & His Lady & because it's turning out not to be a simple one-shot, I'm publishing it as a story of its own
Part 1
70th Games
The apartment assigned to District Three was naturally smaller than the penthouse assigned to District Twelve. The place was filled with odd objects – electronic devices Beetee had brought to the apartment over the years - which made no sense to the Haymitch at all. As he wandered around the room with a drink in hand, Haymitch picked up random artifacts, inspecting them curiously when he saw an item he recognised, a small device that could scramble the signals of the bugs planted anywhere in a room which would allow them some measure of freedom to speak their minds for about five minutes. It beeped in his hands. Haymitch placed it back where he found it.
Somewhere behind him, he could hear Finnick chuckling followed by Johanna's indignant shriek. It was the first night that they were all back in the Capitol - the parade was over and their tributes had all been sent to bed – and as was their usual practice, some of the mentors gathered together. This year, it was Beetee's floor that they decided to meet up.
Out of the corner of his eyes, something glinted under the lights. He reached out for it.
"Haymitch, come over," Chaff called out. "They're re-playing the Parade again. Don't you want to see yourself tripping and pulling off Trinket's wig? They're going to show it for sure!"
He waved his hand at Chaff. Haymitch had seen it during the recap earlier and he already had to sit through Effie chewing his ear off. He did not need the reminder.
His hand closed around the device he saw earlier. The moment he made contact, something sharp prickled his skin, forcing Haymitch to quickly retract his hand. He cursed under his breath as he pressed on the spot where a small red dot had appeared. He wasn't even aware that the round metallic object had something sharp on it.
XxX
As Chaff exited the elevator supported by Seeder, Haymitch raised his hand in a wave. He leaned heavily against the wall and waited for the door to open to the penthouse. The moment he stepped out, he could hear Effie fretting. A groan escaped his lips. He was hoping that she would already be asleep but no such luck.
Where is this man?! He is so impossible. If I have to send Peacekeepers to look for him, he will pay for it!
"I'm here," he slurred, alerting her to his presence.
Effie shrieked and turned around, clutching her chest in surprise.
"Don't sneak up like that," she admonished him. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Not my fault that you were talking so loud you didn't hear the elevator, sweetheart," he mumbled.
"And where have you been?"
"Third floor."
"Third… Oh, of course, you could go off to visit Beetee and Wiress but you couldn't do something as simple as leave a note or pick up the phone to call me so that I'll know where you'll be."
"Why should I?" he blinked slowly.
His head was throbbing and all he wanted to do was to go back to his room.
Did he just ask me why? Because, my dear, Haymitch, you have tributes to think about. For all I know he could have fallen into a ditch somewhere in the Capitol and no one would be any wiser. Or worse, get himself into some kind of trouble with Peacekeepers. Again. Just imagine the damage control I would have to do.
"Because it's only proper, of course," she said. "You can't just leave like that, Haymitch. At least tell me where you're going next time."
"You're overthinking things. I didn't fall into a ditch," he rolled his eyes.
"What was that?" Effie asked.
"Never mind," he sighed tiredly. "I'll be in my room."
XxX
"Haymitch, please, just put on this necktie," she followed him out of his room, holding on to the dark blue cloth.
"That thing is designed to choke me. I'm not putting that around my neck, sweetheart."
I have heard children complain less - forever testing my patience. If he doesn't put this on, then maybe I will strangle him with it myself. How long does it take to strangle someone, hmmm? But he's so much bigger than me. I don't think I can do it.
Haymitch narrowed his eyes at her.
Oh, no Effie, no. Those are improper feelings. Keep murderous thoughts away. Haymitch is your friend. And if he's gone you'll be alone. You're going to miss him. Of course, I'm not going to miss him. Don't be silly, Effie, dear.
Something lodged in his throat and Haymitch started coughing. "What... What did you say?"
He didn't quite understand why Effie was having a conversation with herself. It was quite possible that the stress of the Games had finally gotten to her and drove her mad.
"I said that it'll just be for the tributes' interview," she tried, her tone placating. "Will you put it on just for a few hours…. please?"
I'm going to count to three. If he still refuses, I'm just going to go for it.
She took a step forward and looped it around his neck. Effie was lucky that Haymitch was still in a state of confusion because he didn't put up much of a fight.
"What's going on? I thought I heard…Why are you so adamant about this?" he gestured at the tie.
"Why are you so stubborn?" she questioned as she pulled on the knot, a bit too tightly in his opinion.
"Be gentle!" he pushed her hands away.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she smiled sweetly.
Serves you right for wasting my time. I could have used that ten minutes to go through my schedule one last time. I wonder if I could free an hour up to meet Osiris. Well, I supposed it's possible if I rearrange something here and there… But oh, does Haymitch need me -
"Who is Osiris?"
"What?" she squeaked. "I never…. How do you know about Osiris?"
"You've just said."
"No, I didn't," Effie frowned.
"No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart," his lips curled into a teasing smile. "Boyfriend?"
"I've never mentioned his name at all! Have you been spying on me, Haymitch Abernathy?!" she propped her hands on her hips and glared at him.
He scoffed. "Do you think I haven't got anything better to do than to spy on you? And how else would I know an Osiris if you didn't mention it?" Haymitch argued.
Effie shook her head at him
"Oh, Effs? Don't think I don't know that you tightened the knot on purpose."
Effie looked taken aback and but quickly rallied herself.
"We have no time for this. We're already late as it is. Come now. The car's waiting."
XxX
"I just need to freshen up a little," Effie touched his arm as she gestured towards the bathroom.
Haymitch nodded to show that he had heard her and turned his attention towards Finnick. They talked about the interviews, discussing each tribute's strengths and weaknesses. That was when he heard her voice.
… hasn't she got her own Victor to fawn over? Why does she have to keep looking at mine? If she tries to put her grubby paws on Haymitch, I will have to speak to Finnick about it.
He swivelled around looking for Effie but was unable to locate her anywhere. That was odd. Wasn't she in the washroom? If she was, it didn't explain how he could hear her voice loud and clear.
Oh, this new hand wash smells divine. I should remember to use this washroom instead of the one at the end of this hallway.
"Haymitch, are you listening to me?" Finnick asked.
"What – Sorry, excuse me," he mumbled, moving towards the washroom.
He could still hear her talking. At this juncture, the confusion had left him completely. It was replaced with a growing sense of panic. Her voice became louder the closer he was to the washroom. Unless Effie had a habit of talking out loud for everyone to listen to her deepest thoughts, there was no reason for him to be able to hear her. Nothing was making sense to him.
"Haymitch!" Effie exclaimed as she collided into him on her way out of the washroom.
"Oh, I was - " about to enter the ladies to look for you. That did not sound good to his ears. It sounded creepy. "What took you so long?" he recovered.
"I don't think I took more than five minutes."
Is he okay? He's been acting odd. It's nice that he came looking for me, though. Usually he doesn't even seem to notice that I'm gone.
"That's not true," he mumbled distractedly. "It's peaceful when you're not around so I always – "
He clamped his mouth shut when he realised that Effie had not said anything at all. So what was it that he just heard? It was definitely her voice. He had worked with her for years to be able to recognise the familiar voice that had grated on his nerves as surely as the vodka he drank was familiar to him.
"Did you… Did you say something? Anything at all?" he queried.
"I said I haven't been gone for more than five minutes."
"And anything after?"
"Haymitch, I'm really worried about you. Are you sure that everything's okay?" she clutched his hand and that was when he felt the dull pain on his palm.
He glanced down. When he looked up, his eyes rested on Beetee.
"I'll catch up with you later," he said. "There's something I need to … I'll see you at the penthouse."
XxX
Haymitch paced the room, occasionally glancing over at Beetee as he inspected the object.
"Why did you touch it?" Beetee asked.
"Well, what is that thing?"
"It's something I'm working on. It's on its experimental stages, nothing conclusive. It targets the neurons in the brain and - "
"To hear people's thoughts?"
"Not exactly. That was not what I designed it for. But if you can read minds – "
"I can't read minds. Don't be ridiculous. I thought you're a scientist," he scowled.
"You are clearly wound up right now."
"Try being in my shoes and let's see if you're alright with it."
"Very well, we have established that you can hear Effie Trinket and whatever she's thinking. Can you tell what I'm thinking right now?" Beetee asked, far more excited than Haymitch approved of. "Give me a minute, please. Let me grab my notepad. What about anyone else? How about the Avox over there?"
"I've already told you that I've only heard Trinket's voice so far," he growled. "She wouldn't shut up. Radio Trinket broadcasting twenty four seven."
"Do you have any other side effects? A fever? Muscle ache?"
"No," Haymitch shook his head. "Nothing except her voice. Her voice in my head."
"Alright. Did you notice – "
"You have to make it stop," he demanded, snatching Beetee's notepad away. He wanted the man to listen to him, not take down notes. "Are there any antidote or… just - just give me something. I'll go insane if I have to listen to her think about the smell of hand wash or Finnick's escort or… I can hear her right now and she's 9 floors above us!"
If it isn't for me, Haymitch wouldn't bother to dress up at all. This shirt is passable in the district but it wouldn't do for him to walk around the Capitol in that. Well, let's see… This suit will cut his figure nicely. I would have to ….
"She's sorting through my wardrobe and picking out clothes for me to wear to the sponsor meeting tomorrow. This is your fault," he shoved his palm where the needle had pricked into his soft flesh at Beetee's face, "you stop it now."
72nd Games
It had been two years and nothing had changed for Haymitch. If anything, Effie's constant chatter in his mind filled the quiet space. She occupied it so much that Haymitch found himself completely distracted. It wasn't that he forgot every bad thing that kept him awake at night but he thought of it less and less whenever he was at the Capitol. Thankfully, her voice was quiet when he returned to Twelve and he supposed the distance must have played a part in it. It was only when Effie felt a particularly strong surge of emotions that her voice would break through the barrier, allowing him to pick out whispers of her thoughts.
He welcomed the break. A few weeks each year was enough. He did not need Effie Trinket to be in his head for 365 days.
Beetee worked tirelessly, trying to reverse the effect on Haymitch. It was something he worked hard on but he found it difficult to solve the problem when he could barely identify the root of what was causing it. He couldn't understand why it was only Effie's thoughts that Haymitch could hear.
They had agreed to keep it between themselves and for that reason neither Beetee nor Haymitch could seek help from anyone else. He would rather suffer through Effie's inane ramblings than have Snow finding out about it and using it on people.
"If we avoid the Cornucopia, how are we supposed to get weapons?"
"You can make weapons from things in the arena. Do as I say and avoid the Cornucopia," Haymitch told the boy.
Isla is so small. She's only thirteen. Even so, I hope Haymitch had not given up hope on her. We can work something out, I'm sure.
He glanced at the girl the moment he heard Effie's voice in his head. She was always so hopeful but Isla would never stand a chance in the arena. Neither would the boy if he was honest.
When I was her age, Mother bought me my first wig and I was allowed to watch my first Games. I still remember that. But Isla… I can't imagine having to fight other children at that age. I don't think I would actually know what to do. It's terrifying. Poor girl.
You can't think that way, Effie! You're not allowed to. Remember what they taught you in school about the Dark Days and all the destructions it caused.
But these children had nothing to do with the Dark Days. They shouldn't be punished. They -
"Effie," he cut off her thoughts. She was going to work herself into a state if she went on. "It's time for their training."
She was flustered when she glanced at the clock and quickly ushered the two tributes towards the elevator. It wasn't long before she returned.
"Haymitch," her sing-song voice floated across the room.
After two years, Haymitch had learnt to tell when she was speaking and when she was thinking. Right now, she was definitely speaking. He turned around to face her with a full decanter of whiskey clutched in his hand.
"I hope you have not stained your suit!" Effie came to stand in front of him. She smoothened out his lapels and fixed his tie. "You have a meeting with a sponsor in an hour's time."
"Yeah, I remember."
Her movements were gentle as she trailed a finger across his jaw.
I like him looking slightly rakish like this. Not that I would ever tell him that, of course. I don't need him laughing in my face.
"You need to shave," she said despite what she had just thought.
Haymitch chuckled in amusement.
Such contradiction. "Do I?"
"Yes, you do but do it later. You won't have time now."
"Sweetheart," he grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. "It's not going to be any different than any other year, you know that, right? They all die in the end."
Effie sighed and lowered her eyes. It doesn't hurt to have a little hope. I wish he could believe in them. If he could do that, things could turn around!
She smiled thinly at him.
"Don't be so morbid," she said suddenly with a note of cheerfulness.
That's what Effie Trinket does, he realised. She pretends; a smile on her face, a laugh on her lips. Everything was fine if only she act like it was. But the thoughts in her head told him a different story and it showed him a different person.
73rd Games
During the 73rd Games, Haymitch crossed the line.
He kissed her, not because he wanted to but because he didn't know what else to do. Effie wouldn't stop thinking. The cake was dry and she vowed to never ever buy anything from that bakery shop again. He didn't know why it mattered. It was just cake.
As they sat through the recaps, Haymitch cradled his head in his hand. His mind was going to explode from all the thoughts going through her little head. He pushed his chair back violently, strode over to where she was seated and kissed her hard. She pushed him away, looking slightly affronted. For a moment the Penthouse was silent. He sighed in contentment and sank on the chair only to have her thoughts implode in his head again.
Breathe, Trinket. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Don't think of the way his lips felt against yours. Don't go down that road.
"How dare you!" she shrieked.
"I can tell that you like it, so you can quit being angry," he waved his hands carelessly at her.
"I definitely don't. I would rather kiss Chaff."
"I will tell him that."
He tasted of whiskey and … and… His lips are so soft. Who would have thought? And he felt so firm and steady and… Stop it, right now. But why did he kiss me? Will he do it again? No, I don't want him to. I don't like it.
"If you ever do that again, Haymitch, I will…" her fingers shook as she pointed it up at him, "I will…"
She stormed off into her room, muttering under her breath about him being rude and improper.
That night as he lay in bed, there was a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Next door, in her own bedroom, Effie Trinket was apparently having a debate with her subconscious on whether or not she enjoyed being kissed by him and if she would like a repeat of it. It was quite enjoyable listening to her arguing with herself instead of being the one to argue with her. It made for a fresh change.
Haymitch had to supress the urge to laugh out loud when she started thinking about the kiss again after her shower, replaying it over and over in her mind. If this was the effect he could have on her with just one kiss, he didn't want to imagine what it would do to her if he had let his hands wander.
He could hear all her thoughts; what she would have done differently, how she wished she hadn't pushed him off her and what would happen if she had let the kiss go on.
It'll lead to something else. He frowned when he realised that he was thinking of sleeping with her. It's good then that she can't hear what I'm thinking.
As the night wore on, Haymitch became increasingly uncomfortable when Effie's thoughts went deeper into the gutter. Over the years, Effie had undressed him enough time when he was drunk to know what he looked like underneath all his clothes. Right now she was thinking of him naked in her bed. It left him feeling mortified but smug at the same time. He had never once considered that Effie was capable of dirty thoughts. She was always so prim and proper.
The images of them together began to form in his mind and he could feel his pants beginning to tighten.
"Stop, Effie," he groaned out loud, not that she could hear him. "Just shut up. Go to sleep. Doesn't she ever stop thinking?!"
He's probably a rough lover. Those hands… What would they feel like palming my breast?
Haymitch growled in frustration and pressed his face against the pillow.
